


Meant to Be

by skund



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, wee!Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-06
Updated: 2009-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skund/pseuds/skund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bird finds his home for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ user bradygirl_12 for her 2009 Christmas wishlist, prompt 'meant to be'.

The tiny form huddled in the large bay windows, almost indistinguishable underneath the layers of blankets and scarves. Large blue eyes stared out at the pristine white world, the bright light reflected off the snow bathing his face. Alfred watched the huddle of blankets and boy silently from the doorway, before entering and depositing a tray full of hot chocolate and fresh baked cookies just next to the window seat. A sweet aroma filled the room but the blankets barely stirred.

"A small repast for you, Master Dick."

The boy remained motionless.

Alfred cleared his throat gently. "The recipe said these snickerdoodles are best when eaten warm."

The pile of blankets huffed, fogging up the window. "Is it always this cold?"

"Yes, during the winter months. Wayne Manor is renowned for its beauty after the snow has fallen."

"The circus never stayed in cold places over winter. We like it hot."

"I can turn up the house's thermostat again if you desire."

"No," Dick sighed, "it's not the same."

Alfred eyed the boy resignedly. "Well, if you require anything all you have to do is call."

Dick didn't respond. The butler watched him for a moment longer before turning and quietly leaving the room. Not long after, a small hand wormed its way out from under the layers and grabbed a cookie. The rest didn't last much longer.

\---

"I am concerned about Master Dick." Alfred started without preamble, breaking the silence of the study. Bruce looked up sharply from his paperwork, pen in hand.

"He still hasn't moved from the window?" Bruce asked with a small frown.

"No, he has not. I really do think you should go speak with him."

Bruce huffed quietly, an almost identical movement to Dick's earlier sigh. "I don't know what else to say to him. The first Christmas after... after, is the hardest."

Alfred smiled sadly, his mind recalling another pair of lost blue eyes,an image the years had not dimmed. "I know, sir. But I want him to feel that he is welcome here, that this can be his home too."  
Bruce rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly uncomfortable. Alfred gave him a beseeching look and Bruce responded with a resigned smile. "I guess I could try to talk to him again-"

"Excellent, sir." Alfred interrupted, turning and leaving before Bruce could renege.

Bruce sighed heavily and slowly placed his pen on the desk. It looked like he couldn't hide in his paperwork much longer.

\---

Dick hadn't moved at all from when Bruce had last checked on him. He padded silently into the room and laid a hand on the jumble of blankets. A head popped out, topped with dark hair tussled and cheeks rosy from the little cocoon of warmth inside.

"Hi." Bruce said softly.

"Hi." Dick replied, blinking owlishly in the light.

Bruce motioned with his hand for Dick to scoot over and the boy did, making space for him to sit down next to him on the window seat. Bruce stared out the window into the snow-covered garden beyond, recalling long days spent playing in that winter wonderland. Coming in finally with dusk on his heels and his mother chiding his wet bootprints down the hallway.

"It snowed heavily overnight, first big fall of the season." Bruce murmured.

Dick looked up at him, then followed his gaze out to the whiteness beyond. "Yeah, there sure is an awful lot of it."

"You ever had a white Christmas before?"

"No, it's too cold." Dick reinforced his statement by burrowing back into this blankets slightly.

"Sure, it's cold if you're sitting around doing nothing. You should get out there, play around."

Dick shot him a disbelieving look, which Bruce only just caught out of the corner of his eye. He tried to hide his grin.

"I'm serious. I can show you how to make a snowman, if you like."

"I don't like snowmen. They steal your hat."

Bruce frowned and tried to figure out how Dick had come to that conclusion. "Come on, it'll be great, I promise."

Dick looked up at him again with those bottomless blue eyes; he didn't look convinced in the slightest. Bruce gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow and Dick rolled his eyes. He slowly clambered out of his woolen nest, resignation in every movement.

"Right. We'll need find your jacket, and a scarf. Boots. A hat. Ear muffs? I think there's some in the western attic, I'll have to ask Alfred. No, they should be..." Bruce was muttering to himself by the end of the sentence, walking out of the room with a sullen Dick trailing him. Bruce led them through the quiet house to the main parlor by the front doors.

"Wait here, I'll go get the-" Bruce said, command lost as he disappeared up the stairs at a jog.

Dick was standing in the large parlor, trying not to shiver. The room was large and ornate, and at this time of year it was almost filled with racks of coats, scarves, boots and other winter gear. A large clock on the wall was ticking loudly, but underneath that Dick could hear an odd collection of noises, jangles and rattlings and an odd whispy noise. Curiosity piqued, he wandered in the direction of the strange noises. They led him to the drawing room just off the parlor, where Alfred was kneeling beside a large collection of dusty boxes and brown paper bags. He was rummaging about in one of them, which was jingling loudly.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked loudly.

Alfred started and whipped around to look at Dick, a hand flying to his chest. "Good gracious boy, you startled me."

"Sorry." Dick cringed, stepping backward out of the room.

"No matter, my lad. I was just sorting through the Wayne heirloom Christmas ornaments."

Intrigued Dick stood up on his toes to try and peer into the boxes from his position in the doorway, then hurried over when Alfred beckoned him in. He kneeled down beside the butler and his eyes instantly lit up. He was surrounded by piles of boxes full of glittering gold and rich, red velvets, clear crystals that seemed to sparkle like diamonds and lengths of shimmering tinsel. "Wow."

"Some of these ornaments go back almost a hundred years, they're priceless to the family." Alfred said proudly. He carefully pulled a battered pine cone out of a carefully packed box, adorned with faded red ribbon and pieces of what looked like gold-leaf. He held it up to show Dick, who reached out to touch it reverently.

"Wow, that's heaps old."

Alfred smiled down at him. "Would you like to help me decorate?"

"Yeah! I mean," Dick glanced back at the lobby, "maybe later? Bruce said we have to build a snowman."

"And destroy another one of my good hats? I don't think so. I shall have a word with Master Bruce. Why don't you keep unpacking here." Alfred carefully handed the pinecone to Dick.

Alfred stood and headed off to rescue Bruce from the attic. Dick eyed the boxes nervously, but Alfred's apparent trust gave him confidence. With gentle hands he placed the pine cone back in its place and turned to pull the lid off a long, flat box. Inside, each in a cut-out insert, were neat lines of little wooden musicians; drummers, trumpeters and carolers painted in wonderful bright colours. Dick pulled a few out carefully, standing them up in their little inserts. The faded gold of the trumpets caught the winter light filtering through the windows, making them shine. Under the silence of the old, creaking house Dick could almost hear the blast of the circus big top, the beating drums and blaring horns and loud, frantic tunes.

Next an old, battered box caught his eye, stained almost brown with age. He carefully pulled the top off and froze when he saw the contents. Inside, laid in soft, green satin were a pair of life-size, golden robins. Their red breasts were made of studded rubies that glittered a deep, vibrant red and their eyes were set with a single, shimmering diamond. Dick's breath caught painfully in his throat. The colours danced before his eyes, first as memories of silk and smiles and flying high, strong arms that always caught him. Then he blinked and the colours danced even further as his vision blurred and something wet started sliding down his cheeks. He could smell acrobat's chalk and hear the snap of flesh against a bar, the collective gasp of the audience. His hands hovered over the robins in their box, fearful to damage these treasures them with his touch.

Dick lost track of time. He had no idea how long he sat there before suddenly warm, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and a deep voice was mumbling into his hair.

"Hey, little man, are you okay? Shhh... It's alright, it's alright, Dick. It's okay."

Then Alfred was there too, kneeling beside them both. "Master Dick, what's wrong?"

Dick sniffled loudly and just nodded, rubbing the cuff of his jumper under his nose. Alfred captured his hand and gently lowered it, pulling a handkerchief out of his own pocket and holding it against Dick's nose.

"Blow." Alfred commanded, and Dick obeyed.

"I'm sorry." Dick hiccuped. "I didn't mean to-"

"Shhh, it's alright." Bruce murmured, running a large hand over Dick's hair. "It's alright. Sometimes you'll cry at the smallest thing, and that's okay."

Bruce was looking down at him with an odd smile, and Dick didn't quite know how to respond. He sniffled again, turning his gaze back to the ornaments. "They're so pretty."

"These," Alfred said, carefully removing a robin from the box, "are English ornaments from the 18th century, brought over by Great Great Great Grandfather Wayne." Alfred placed the ornament in Dick's hands and he instinctively cupped them like he was holding a real bird, sitting and gazing down at it silently. He didn't have the strength to tell the two men how these dazzling creatures reminded him of his parents, of glitz and glamour and bright lights and brighter smiles. But he didn't need to. They already knew. Bruce pulled Dick tighter against his chest and dropped a kiss in his hair.

"If you like, these can be your ornaments for Christmas time. You can put them up anywhere you like." Alfred offered.

Dick looked up at him wide eyed. "Really?"

"Of course. These little birds have been waiting for you to arrive for a long time."

Dick's grin almost lit up the room, despite the tears on his cheeks. The freezing snow outside was forgotten for the rest of the afternoon as the small family absorbed themselves in decorating their home. The pair of robins were hung pride of place over the fireplace in the living room, where Dick could watch over them during the cold nights. And where they could watch over him.


End file.
